


Hummingbird Heartbeat

by Achrya



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Clint Barton's Farm, Dues Ex Wanda, Hurt/Comfort, Infinity Gems, Kid Loki, Kinda, Lips. Sewn. Shut., Loki's Lips Sewn Shut, M/M, Mild Language, Occasionally Female Loki, Odin's A+ Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Protective Thor, Thor Feels, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>He saw what she’d seen, just for a moment. A small huddled figure, chained down and begging as a wickedly sharp needle was brought close to pale trembling lips.  “That is what I saw. That is who they are. I will hurt them Pietro, I will hurt them in ways they didn’t know possible.”</em><br/>Wanda sees something in Thor’s mind and, just like that, she’d got a plan that will strike even deeper at the team’s heart. That’s what she told Pietro anyway. In the end everything goes sideways and it's hard to know if even Wanda knows what her intentions actually were.<br/>Takes place during AoU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe I'll Master This

**Author's Note:**

> There’s some sudden tense changes. Not sure why, I just felt like Wanda’s mind games worked better one way and the rest of the story worked better another. Oh and I kicked lore in the teeth.  
> Warnings: Dues Ex Wanda (Hey, it’s not quite Magic Babies level so there’s that at least) Teenage Loki, Crazy Loki, Iokl!Loki, Occasionally Fem!Loki. Pietro’s kind of a creeper? But not really because Loki’s hundreds of years old. ...or he’s a few days old. ...both?

 

First their leader, Captain America. She hears music faintly and can feel guilt and loneliness, deep, dark, and so cold it steals her breath away. He stumbles then goes to his knees and she’s twisting away to find the next one, shivering at the chill that’s set into her bones.

Next is the woman, the Widow, and there’s music there too. Music and gun shots and fear and little girls all in a row, elegant and beautiful and broken into pieces bit by bit. She turns smoothly, like a dance, and creeps away.

She finds the god who isn’t a god, Thor, and whispers into his ear. There’s a feasting hall and she feels the crush of bodies and almost oppressive heat all around her as she draws back.

Thor grabs her wrist and she gasps as he stares at her, eyes wide and full of lightning. Power flows between them, electricity prickling her skin and flooding her, building low in her belly, as red creeps into his eyes.

She can see crying and wet emerald eyes begging, a mouth forced to close, gleaming black thread and feels the echo of twisting nausea inside, slithering like a snake and threatening to burst loose at any moment.

Then something strikes her in the forehead, makes her fall back step, and then there’s nothing except crackling energy and blazing white behind her eyes, save one small point of gleaming yellow.

\---

 

The feasting hall fades away and he's in front of his father's throne, watching as Odin stands before a kneeling Loki except this isn't Loki now, it's Loki then. When he looks to the side he can see himself, younger, smaller, weaker standing next to his mother, clutching her hand so tightly that he can see pain just around the edges of her eyes. Or maybe the pain is for Loki. He knows the tears she's just keeping back, the stiffness in her shoulders, and the furious set of her mouth are for Loki. On his other side is Amora. He remembers her being horrified and sad but as he looks at her now, with the clear eyes of an adult, he sees the smug curve of her lips and the amused crinkling around her eyes. 

Sif is nearby, between her furious parents, hair still a short uneven mess of dark strands where long gold had once flowed. 

He turns away from them to look at Loki; an enchanted collar around a pale throat and chains connecting the collar to the floor. It's a familiar scene, one they'd repeat after the attack on Earth. Loki is in female form, has been for the past fifty years, and wearing not but a thin slip. She'd just swept into Thor's rooms one day, hair long and fixed into a single braid that was dotted and threaded with gold, curves where there hadn't been any before, lips fuller, and clothes fitting just a little different, and that had been all there was to it. Lady Loki, Princess of Asgard until she decided she no longer wanted to be. It had happened before, though this was the first time he'd been so aware of his sister, seen her for the beauty she was. 

It shamed him, kept him up at night. When Amora had introduced herself and distracted him from Loki he'd been grateful, so much so that he'd never suspected his love of her might have been unnatural. 

Odin held a needle in his hand, long, hair thin, and wickedly sharp, trailing shimmering black thread behind it. "Loki Odinsdottir, you will have your lips sewn shut so that you may speak no more lies, plan no more evil, and that your silver tongue may be silenced." Loki said nothing, just stared up at Odin through the long curtain of her hair. Odin nodded then stepped forward, placing a hand on Loki's cheek and tilting her face up.

He wants to turn away. He's already seen this happen, remembers it like it was yesterday and it haunts him endlessly. He doesn't-

"Why do you not speak?" Loki asks. Not the Loki who had began to thrash and cry, large tears trailing down her beautiful face, but Loki as he last saw him. Tall, thin, sharp angles and a razor sharp smile to hide the shadows of madness in his eyes. This Loki is at his side and radiating cold. "Why did you forsake me brother?"

The Loki on the floor tries to shriek but already the thread was doing it's job, sealing her lips and silencing her voice with it's magic. Blood stained her skin. Thor, the younger one who had not yet learned to be strong and defy his father, closed his eyes and turned his face away. Thor, as he was now, cries out like he wishes he had done then, lunges for his father and

It fades away.

Loki laughs. "You are always too late. You can save no one."  

\---

Pietro cursed the archer as he scooped up his sister and ran out of the oil tankard. It shouldn’t have happened, he should have been closer and able to stop the arrow, but he hadn’t and now his sister was convulsing from the force of the electricity coursing through her. He set her down carefully then pulled the arrow in the middle of her forehead free and tossed it aside.

Damn archer. He’d find him and destroy him, beat him until he stopped breathing for daring to hurt his sister.

He put hands on either side of her face and tilted her head up so he could look at her better. There was a dark mark where the arrow had been connected, a faint outline. “Wanda?”

Her eyes flew open and it took everything he had to not reel back in surprise at the sight of her them, totally taken over by blue save a few misty points of red swirling in the center. He blinked and swallowed, mouth suddenly dry then let her go and stood up. Rage seeped into him, made his entire body shake with the force of it until he was vibrating in place.

What had they done to her?

“I’ll kill him.”

“No.” She grabbed his arm and he went still under her touch, as he always did. “We finish this.”

“What? No! Look at you!” That arrow had clearly fried her brain if she thought for even a second he was going to let this continue. Her lips quirked into a soft smile and he felt her, feather light and feeling like home, brush against his thoughts.

He felt her conviction and, under it, a cold anger. He saw what she’d seen, just for a moment. A small huddled figure, chained down and begging as a wickedly sharp needle was brought close to pale trembling lips.

“That is what I saw. That is who they are. I will hurt them Pietro, I will hurt them in ways they didn’t know possible, but I need your help.” She blinked and now the red was creeping out, slowly eating away at the blue.

It was a strangely comforting sight.

He put his arms around her and helped her stand then turned towards where the Avengers had left their transport. The back was open and there was a man walking down the ramp, looking bewildered. He looked down at Wanda, saw her face slide into a hard mask.

“First the monster.”

He picked her up again and, once her arms were firmly around his neck, raced over to the man who hide a beast in his skin. They weren’t trying for stealth anymore so he simply stopped in front of the man, forcing a cocky smile at the way hazel eyes widened in surprise.

Wanda reached out, red smoke gathering around her fingers.

The man’s eyes flared red around the edges of his pupils and then he shook his head and took a step away from them then another and another until he was off of the ramp and in the grass. Green started to crawl over his skin as and his body contorted, changing and growing. The man’s mouth opened to scream but it came out a bellowing roar that shook the ground.

The monster fled, throwing itself into the air and racing towards the city, apparently forgetting all about them in it’s rage.

Wanda hadn’t stayed to watch any of the transformation and had instead walked deeper into the transport, humming softly. He followed and found her staring intently at the air, swaying back and forth with both hands in front of her and fingers moving. Her hands glowed red but it was white that bounced between her fingers, snapping and twisting as if fighting to escape.

“What-”

“Shhh.” She tossed him a tiny smirk over her shoulder. Pietro shivered, a mixture of worry and anticipation crawling up his spine. Wanda watched him a moment longer then nodded and turned back around, gaze going back to the patch of air she’d been watching before.

Abruptly she thrust her hands forward into...nothing. Or, rather, the air shimmered and split before her, a long jagged tear that went from the floor of the jet to the ceiling shivering where it hadn't been before, and she sank in past her elbows. He took a step back, unable to keep a startled noise from leaving his lips.

Wanda giggled but it was a high pitched and strained, and the world burst into bright light. Pietro was blinded and deaf for a moment and something warm fell against him. He wrapped his arms around it instinctively and found himself staring dumbly at a small body when his vision finally returned.

His heart squeezed and stuttered.

It was a person, small and thin, with a spill of messy ink black hair that fell and swept against smooth bone pale skin. There was something strapped to cover their mouth and chin, black and ugly, stretching back and vanishing under the mess of their hair. His fingers itched to remove it.

“I knew you’d catch him.” He looked back at his sister who watching him, expression a strange mixture of fondness and sadness.

“What have you done?” He knew that what had been done to them had changed Wanda more profoundly than it had him. The scientists who’d poked and prodded and tested them had seemed afraid of whatever she was, talked quietly to each other about the things she could do, not just the way she twisted minds and moved objects but the way the world seemed to bend around, changing itself in subtle ways to suit her whims.

He’d never been afraid before because no matter what she could she was still Wanda, his little sister, his everything and the only thing but when she looked at him and flashed a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything else, he was afraid.

“Pietro, we must go.” She swept past him, a hand brushing through messy black hair and then ghosting over his shoulder. “Just wait. We’ll come back for him later.”

 


	2. Tell Me All the Dreams You've Let Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is pretty sure he's managed to break everything. Also Steve is an unnaturally attractive statue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Loki we're dealing with here is probably about 15-16 as far as 'how looks to humans' goes.

_Tell all the dreams that you have let slip right through your hands_  
_Do you feel lost inside of someone else's life_

We'll Never Know~ Life House

 

It was bad.

Clint had one arm tight around Natasha’s waist as she leaned against him, face drawn and pinched with more rage than Steve had ever seen on his face before. Thor’s lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyes were distant, staring at something Steve couldn’t see and, even as he helped the larger man back to the quinjet, he felt like he was miles away.

Steve knew that, of the three of them, he was the least shaken. He didn’t know what his teammates had seen, couldn’t begin to imagine what could rock them so thoroughly, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

His own vision hadn’t been a new one. It didn't even rank among his worst nightmares, those honors belonged to the endless loop of watching Bucky fall into the cold, forever out of his reach, to the dream where there was nothing but ice creeping in, holding him in place while he watched the world slide by, and to the image of Tony falling from a tear in the sky and plummeting to the Earth and knowing that, once again, he could do nothing.

This...this was just something he already suspected about himself: that he had no place in a world without war and strife. Maybe once upon a time, before the ice, but not now.

The ramp was already down but that was no surprise considering that the Hulk was loose, another victim of Wanda Maximoff’s power. Tony had been on the coms at first, letting them know he was bringing out Veronica 

They practically fell up the ramp and into the jet.  

Which is when he noticed the person sitting on the floor and the glimmering green eyes peering out at them from under thick dark lashes.

Thor stood straight and a choked noise escaped him as his hammer slide from his fingers. The noise it made hitting the floor echoed hollowly.

Hawkeye went rigid then his bow was out, arrow notched and aimed. Natasha had one hand on Clint’s shoulder and the other up and aimed, widow bites glowing. Thor didn’t appear to notice and instead pushed past them bodily, ignoring Natasha’s hiss for him to stop.

“Loki?”

He could see the resemblance. At the very least the person staring up at them shared the same fashion sense as Loki; black pants and a green tunic with gold edging, though the cream colored hood was new. Instead of that ridiculous looking horned helmet there was a gold circlet with small horns forming a ‘V’ shape in the front and, as Thor bent down and pushed the hood back, Steve could see delicate looking wings on the sides.

He looked young. Much younger than Loki had been, a kid, and was flinching away from Thor with none of the arrogance and bravado he’d displayed in New York.

Then again who knew when it came to Asgardians. They could have aged backwards for all he knew.

Steve chanced a look at Clint, watched the archer’s grip on his bow tighten and his jaw clench.

“Are you sure that’s Loki?” Natasha asked. The shell shocked look was gone, leaving only the careful calculating look Steve was used to.

“I would know any version of my brother.” There was bite to Thor’s voice, like Natasha’s question was offensive.

“Of course you would.” Steve agreed easily, shooting the other two a look that he hoped said ‘don’t antagonize the angry god-like alien’. Natasha rolled her eyes and Clint continued to look totally blank.

Thor’s hands brushed over the black muzzle on the teen’s face then he turned towards them, expression unreadable. “I require a blade. Something very sharp and small would be best.”

Green eyes widened in panic, tears welling up and threatening to spill. The kid shook his head and scrambled back across the floor, one hand going up to cover the muzzle, until he was practically underneath one of the seats.  

“Worry not brother.” Thor said, reaching out. There was a flash and a bright green flame erupted on one of his gauntlets; Thor placed a hand over the flame, snuffing it out as quickly as it had formed then frowned intently at his gauntlet looking, somehow, even more troubled than he had a moment ago.

“Thor.” Clint’s voice was severe and he’d drawn back the string of his bow.

Thor rose to his feet and turned, placing himself between them and the teen. “You would attack a child without defenses?”

“No, but this...he just set you on fire. I’m not sure I’d call that defenseless.” Steve said carefully. He didn’t want to make things any worse by getting on Thor’s bad side, which seemed like a very real possibility judging by how hard the Asgardian was glaring at them. Thunder rumbled outside ominously.

Though he may have been assuming a lot as far as thinking things could actually get worse. The Maximoff girl had played in their brains, sent Banner out on a city destroying rampage, and now Loki was on their jet, seemingly afraid of them of all possible things.

Loki, who was supposed to be dead according to Thor.

Loki, who Thor clearly intended to defend from them.

“He’s afraid. The fire was meant to warn, not harm.” Thor said and his glare softened into something that Steve couldn’t put a name to. “I doubt he could do harm even if he wanted to.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “That isn’t a ‘scared child’. It’s Loki, you said so yourself. Just another illusion or some kind of magic. You're too close to this, letting him get into your head-”

“I would have you trust that I know what I am doing. Did I not aid you in capturing Loki before? Did I not fight at your side as we looked for the scepter so that the last of Loki’s influence could be removed from your world? Do you not trust that if he was a threat I would do what I must?”

No one moved for a moment then, with a noise of frustration, Thor reached for the teen, undaunted by the way the boy tried to push him away, and yanked the muzzle free.

Natasha’s breath hitched. Clint swore and lowered his bow fractionally. Steve’s stomach clenched.

“Jesus.”

The boy’s lips were sewn shut. Black thread formed neat even stitches, flowing through tiny holes, more of them then Steven wanted to begin to count, going from one corner to the other then back to make multiple tight X’s. The boy seemed to wilt under their gazes, huddling in on himself and appearing, somehow, even smaller than he had before.

Natasha turned on her heel and all but ran from the jet. Steve started to turn but a hand caught his elbow and he saw Clint shaking his head. He hesitated, looking down the ramp to see the redhead standing there, staring up at the sky, then sighed.

“A blade.” Thor repeated quietly. “Please.”

Clint took a step forward while pulling a small knife from one of the zippered pockets on his jacket. Thor nodded then crouched down again.

“Loki, I would remove your bindings if you’ll allow me. I promise no further harm will come to you.”

There’s a moment of stillness, save the frantic rise and fall of the boy's chest. Steve cleared his throat then winced when those wet green eyes snapped over to him. He held up his hands, hoping it made him look non-threatening, and wracked his brain for the right thing to say. He wished, not for the first time, that Bucky was with him. Bucky had always had a way of cleaning up his wounds, of getting him to sit down and accept help in spite of his pride and temper, and Steve was sure he'd know what to say now. 

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Please let us help you. I don't know who did this or why, but they were wrong and it needs to be fixed. This shouldn't have happened." 

There was punishment and then there was torture and never let it be said that Steve Rogers was okay with torture.

Not even for Loki. 

The teen went still for a moment, face going slack, then looked at the ground and nodded slowly. Thor looked up at Clint, nodding his head towards the blade. The archer shook his head.

“Your hands are shaking.”

Steve looked and saw that yes, Thor’s hands were shaking. Something like shame flickered over Thor’s face but was chased away by determination. “He cannot stay like this.”

“I’ll do it.” Clint said, kneeling down next to Thor. With the two of them in front of the boy he was completely blocked from Steve’s line of sight. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for it when, after a beat punctuated by Thor’s drawing in a shuddering breath, Clint dropped a strand of bloody thread onto the floor next to his knee.

 

\---

 

To say that Tony had been startled by the scene in the Quinjet when he and Bruce had driven up (Driven, because his suit was totaled, thanks so much Hulk) was a bit of an understatement. Natasha had been outside of the jet, fists clenched at her side and pacing. Steve had been doing an impression of big unfairly attractive statue, looking everywhere but deeper into the jet. Which was totally understandable once Tony had realized that Clint and Thor were doing some strange mixture of surgery and arts and crafts.

Actually that wasn’t funny, not even in his head, and Tony deeply regretted even thinking it.

They’d had to take off before Clint was done cutting the stitches out of the kid’s mouth and it had been kind of a thing (an unhappy Thor was a scary Thor and Thor had been **very** unhappy about having to leave the job half done) but the locals weren’t exactly happy with the Hulk’s little rampage so it had really been in their best interest to vacate the country ASAP.

Once they were in the air, with a very grim looking Natasha piloting, Clint had gone back to work and Tony had busied himself doing...anything besides watching because seriously, what the fuck was this even?

Tony had poked around in his own chest with the arc reactor and everything but this was a whole different level of ‘No, let’s not okay?’

That kid was one loud noise away from losing his shit and he didn't think it was for show. That was real honest to deities who were actually just hyper advanced aliens fear and panic all over his face and if Tony knew anything he knew what a person who was just barely holding himself together looked like. He'd been that person and maybe past tense wasn't as accurate as he'd like it to be but he liked to think he was kind of getting better though, perhaps, Ultron didn't exactly scream 'Tony Stark is totally well adjusted and all better now!'

Sure, Loki was a megalomaniac little shit and Tony was on board for him to suffer forever but this just felt wrong. Maybe if he'd been that adult sneering jackass Loki it would be okay, maybe, but this wasn't that. This kid was small and frail, cheeks sunken in, dark purplish smudges under deep set eyes. He watched them all with naked fear in his eyes and he flinched minutely every time Thor touched him.

Tony didn’t even want to think about how small and sharp the needle that had done that work must have been and how long it must have taken and-

Oh, he was totally thinking about it. The tendency of his brain to run away with itself when he was upset was so very unfortunate.

Worse than all that had been Thor who’d talked quietly to the kid, muttering quiet apologies with each pained twitch or jerk. Thor didn’t do quiet, didn’t do soft and comforting. Thor was larger than life, all loud awkward speeches and booming laughter, walking hard and carrying an hammer of some manner of alien technology that Tony still hadn’t quite figured out yet (But he would.) and he sure as hell didn’t look like he was on the verge of shattering to pieces at any moment.

Except that he did.

And then it was all done, they cleaned the blood off the kids mouth and put antiseptic on the wounds, then wrapped him up in a blanket but things didn’t suddenly lighten up or get any better. Natasha didn’t look any less haunted in her seat up front, Clint’s eyes didn’t lose that glassy blankness as he went up to take over flying duties, and Thor’s hands were still shaking. The little pile of thread was disposed of and the kid’s mouth was free. Tony had expected some sarcasm, some threats of violence, maybe even some good old fashioned mayhem but instead the kid had just...sat. Trembled and stared at them like he expected them throw him out of the jet at any moment or worse.

Maria Hill called to let them know how things were looking after the Hulk Incident. Thor had been trying to coax the kid into drinking some water and, just as Hill was rubbing at her eyes tiredly and telling them they needed to lie low, there was a strangled cough and wet retching noise.

Maria’s eyes widened and she craned her neck in a manner that under normal circumstances would make Tony laugh because hello, video chat, she wasn’t going to see anything new by trying to look around him. In this case however he wrinkled his nose and turned slightly.

Luckily Rogers had been nearby with a handy container so whatever the Sociopathic Home Ec Project (Okay, honestly, that was beyond awful and he was pretty sure if Thor had been able to hear his thoughts he'd have a face full of hammer right now) was coughing up wasn’t all over the jet. It did nothing for the sour rusty smell however.

Tony ended the call in spite of Hill’s demands to know what was going on, then raked a hand through his hair before letting his eyes sweep over the team again.

Bruce was sitting in the back most seat, away from everyone else, and looked like the world had just ended, someone had just kicked his puppy, and he’d been told Santa wasn’t real all at once.  

Thor was patting Little Loki’s back with one hand and smoothing back his hair with the other, once again making quiet soothing noises but hey, speaking of looking one good push away from a breakdown, Thor was that guy.

Natasha and Clint were up front, silent and even though it wasn’t being said Tony couldn’t help but feel that there were in their own world, cut off from the rest of them. Natasha’s hand was on Clint’s thigh and his head was inclined towards her just slightly.

Cap was pale as he held the container for the kid to retch into.  His other hand hovered above Loki's shoulder, like he wanted to touch, to reach out and do that 'I'm Captain America and I'm going to make this alright with my charm, boyish good looks, ridiculous smile, and faith in the greater good' thing that he did. Then his hand closed into a fist and fell into his lap, lips drawing back into a pained grimace.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and thought of his most constant nightmare, that every present vision of his team, broken and beaten and him somehow still alive. 

He thought, even though no one was actually dead, that this was worse than anything he'd dreamed up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's brain is horrifically inappropriate. He is aware and feels bad. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Thor talks. Loki doesn't. Except he does. Time travel makes Tony's head hurt.


	3. Right Now You Can't Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor tells the story of how Loki got his mouth sewn shut. Dialogue heavy. Transition chapters are my weakness as a writer.

“Okay,” Clint said suddenly, piercing the silence. Tony, who’d finally been starting to doze off which meant he must have well and truly been exhausted because he almost never slept, jerked to full awareness and just barely kept from tumbling from his seat.

Natasha spared a wry look in his direction and Tony wondered idly how she could cram so much mockery into just a glance. Did they teach that in spy school?

“I’m taking us to my farm. This is my home. My daughters are there.” Clint’s voice was thin and brittle. “You need to explain what’s going on or I’m going to have to drop you and your brother somewhere along the way.”

Thor closed his eyes for a moment then nodded. “No man can be expected to allow harm to come to his family even on my word. I shall tell you how I think this Loki came to be and then I will accept whatever you choose, but be aware I will allow no harm to come to my brother.”

Clint’s lips quirked downwards into something like disapproval. “We’ve noticed.”

“Wait on story time.” Tony held up a hand, mimicking a child in school. “Question. You have kids? And a farm?” He couldn’t picture Clint Barton on a farm or with children. Clint was...all bitchy and sarcastic and seemed to get his kicks climbing tall things, jumping off of tall things, and crawling around in air vents.

He went on crazy dangerous spy missions for fucks sake.

That didn’t jive with the family man image for Tony. “How do I not know about that?”

Clint’s expression was almost an exact mirror for Natasha’s and his tone was decidedly frosty. “Contrary to what you like to believe you don't know everything.”

Ouch.

That...that hurt like being punched in the chest, had him letting out his breath in a pained ‘woosh’ and looking down at the floor, momentarily thrown.

“Hey. Can we not take shots at each other?” Steve, good old stupidly sweet Steve, said sounding almost concerned.

“Don’t worry boy scout.” Tony said, sitting back in his seat. He’d had it coming after all. That and more, really and it wasn't like Steve hadn't been pretty pissed about Ultron as well, justifiably so but still. Steve had gotten to yell so it was only fair everyone else eventually got to take their shots. 

He really had it coming. 

Thor was silent for a moment, staring down at his brother with a kind of fierce fondness. Loki was asleep, eyes twitching frantically behind his lids, and tucked close to Thor with one massive arm around him.

Tony didn’t know what to think of that. He didn’t have any siblings (none that his father had ever claimed anyway) and he certainly didn’t have any who’d tried to take over the world, mind hijacked people, and opened portals to space so he wasn’t sure if it was normal to still want to hold them and protect them after all of that.

Not that Thor was what Tony would call normal.

Not that he knew what normal was for aliens. Or that he was an expert on normal even for humans.

“When we were young Loki was known for his mischief. Pranks and jokes that often enraged but never caused any real harm you understand. It was mostly fun but Odin didn’t approve. He rarely approved of anything my brother did and took issue with his son preferring the more...underhanded arts of magic instead of becoming a warrior. He was smaller and physically weaker than the rest of us but he took naturally to Frigga’s magic lessons and the more skilled he became the more people talked, which only made Loki act out all the more. Perhaps he thought it was the only manner in which to get father’s attention or perhaps it was out of spite. I never asked. When Loki’s pranks began to be played on other nobles and their children it became a source of strife in our family.”

Tony found himself frowning and exchanging a look with Bruce who offered a wan smile in return. They both knew a thing or two about ‘daddy issues’, though this sounded more in Tony’s wheelhouse than Bruce’s (unless Thor was about to reveal that Odin had killed Frigga in front of him, which seemed unlikely).

The idea of having something in common with Loki was...uncomfortable.

“In our third century someone broke into Lady Sif’s room and cut off all of her hair. Naturally blame fell upon Loki because many thought Loki jealous of her beauty and found it easy to cast blame in that direction whenever something bad happened.” Thor hesitated for a moment, hand on top of the sleeping teen’s head. “Loki denied any involvement and claimed to be unable to restore Sif’s hair, but naturally Loki wasn’t believed. Our father, frustrated with what he saw as yet another of Loki’s lies and under pressure from the nobles to do something about Loki’s constant mischief and to show he was still in control in spite of Loki’s growing magical abilities, decided on what he thought would be a proper punishment.”

Tony felt his throat tighten. He knew where this story was going and, judging by the looks the rest of the team were sporting so did they.

“Your father sewed Loki’s mouth shut?” Steve demanded then, when Loki made a noise of distress and shifted, winced. “His own son?”

Thor’s silence was all the answer that was needed There was a ripple of emotion, of anger and outrage, throughout the jet. Loki whimpered in his sleep again and Thor ran a hand down his arm, shushing him in the same gentle tone he’d been using while pulling out the thread.

Tony couldn’t help but think that Thor did it all on reflex, like something he’d done so often he didn’t even have to pause or think before acting.

The thought of Loki, this small and fragile looking kid, having his mouth sewn shut for a prank (admittedly a pretty harsh prank) as just… The guy was an asshole now, yeah, but he hadn’t been that then, had he? He’d just been a kid with a fucked up sense of humor.

Not that it justified growing up to be a murdering world invading sociopath or anything, but it was pretty messed up even by Tony’s extremely skewed concepts of what made for good life lessons or proper father behavior.

So, actually, maybe this was more Bruce’s wheelhouse.

Maybe they could start a club.

Bruce would probably think it was too morbid a subject to start a club about.

“Understand, my friends, that while Asgard is much different from your world we are also just as capable of cruelty and harshness. Perhaps more capable, as we are long lived and harder to kill.” Thor’s mouth tightened into a grimace. “My vision was, in part, that memory. I believe this Loki has been pulled from that time or created from that memory. This child is Loki but he is not the Loki you know.”

Tony took a moment to consider the implications of someone reaching through time and bringing a teenage Loki to the their time and having him interact with an adult Thor. Did that mean Loki had always known he’d go crazy? Or had crazy Loki just vanished from existence? No, that didn’t work because he still remembered being thrown out of a window and then flying into the void of space so it had to be the- unless this Loki would lose his memory and be sent back to where he came from to become- or maybe being yanked to the future didn’t alter the memories of- maybe it was

He squinted, feeling a headache starting for form.

“Let’s say created.” Bruce suggested, frowning hard and Tony would have bet money he was as put off by the idea of ripping people out of time as he was. “By who.”

“The witch. The jet was tainted with her magic.” Tony frowned at the ‘M’ word but decided that just this once he’d let it go. Mostly because he didn’t know what was going on with the Maximoff girl, ‘Weird’ didn’t even begin to cut it. “I cannot imagine why she would have done so.”

“And you’re positive that this Loki is not...you know, crazy?” Tony didn’t need to look around to know that everyone was giving him their own versions of the ‘Tony, please, no’ face.

“I’m certain it was prolonged contact with the scepter that contributed to Loki’s behavior. I say this not to excuse his actions, as Loki’s choices and actions are beyond excuse, but merely as fact. As we all know now the scepter is something not to be taken lightly.”

Ouch.

Again.

“The scepter and tesseract left their mark on Loki. This child is unaffected so I do not believe he will be ‘crazy’.” Thor said the words confidently enough but it didn’t reflect on his face or in his posture.

“Did Loki cut Sif’s hair?” Natasha asked, head tilted to the side. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lights of the quinjet, and Tony got the feeling that she already knew the answer.

Thor was quiet for a moment, staring down at his brother. “No, it was I. There was a woman, Amora, who is known to bewitch men and wanted my relationship with Sif destroyed so she could one day be queen. I was unable to tell the truth and my guilt caused me to stay far from Sif. By the time Amora was exposed Loki’s punishment was over and I was absolved because sorcery was at play. Or perhaps Loki is correct and I am the favored son.”

Thor looked tired and somehow small, shoulders hunched, free hand clenching into an angry fist, and head bowed, gaze flickering around to look at everything except any of them. Tony knew that look all too well.

It was the look of a man crushed under his own guilt.

Steve reached over and clapped a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “It isn’t your fault Loki turned out like he did. He made his own choices.”

“I would have you be wrong.” Thor brushed a hand over Loki’s head again. “I would gladly have guilt laid at my feet if it means correcting those wrongs could set a different path for my brother.”

And, just like that, Tony knew exactly why Wanda Maximoff had worked whatever weird (and scientifically explainable once he got a chance to really think about it) crap she’d done. Thor was, to use Natasha’s second favorite phrase (the first was, of course, ‘Stark, I will break you.’) compromised. His head was so far out of the game Tony doubted he even remembered what the game was.

It wasn't 'Fix Loki'. At least it hadn't been but Tony doubted they'd be able to convince Thor of that any time soon. 

"I cannot prove to you that this Loki is not the Loki you know." Thor's eyes were focused on Clint, gaze intent. "I can look upon him and see that he hasn't been touched by the tesseract or scepter. I can tell that the magic he wields now pales in comparison to that of his older self. I can also tell you that when we entered the jet he was in his female form." Tony started to raise his hand again but a sharp look from Steve made him put it back down. "And the Loki you encountered hasn't taken that form since his punishment. None of this is proof, however, and I understand if you are uncomfortable with Loki's presence."

 

Clint's face was unreadable. "If something happens?" 

"It will be on my head and I will do what I must."

Tony waited a moment, watched Clint hum thoughtfully then turn back around without another word to them but a pointed look at Natasha. Realized, as everyone settled back into the same stifling silence as before that no one intended to bring up what was, honestly, the only not completely depressing tidbit from Story Time with the Thunder God who isn't a God but is a really old alien. 

"So. Female form? What does that entail?"

Steve groaned loudly. "Don't answer him Thor." 

Thor's lips twitched into an almost smile. "I do not mind. My sister enjoyed having worthy men ask about her."

"And now you've made it weird." Tony sighed. 

\--

The black sands shifted even though there was no wind. A first it was a small thing, bits of grit and rock tumbling down the dune then once again total stillness.

More sand fell free as the dune shifted and trembled. A black snake with thick dark skin and no less than six eyes hissed then made its way down the side of the dune lazily, forked tongue flicking to and fro. It curled up at the base of the dune.

A hand, dark blue and covered in lines of raised flesh, worked its way out from underneath the sand.

Time passes but there’s nothing around to mark it and no one around to give an idea of how much, but eventually there’s a body on top of the sand. Blue, dirt clinging to skin and clothing, red eyes peering anxiously up at the yellow-brown sky. Lips pursed thoughtfully as hands reached inside of his coat, prodding gently at a spot where his tunic was torn.

Satisfied with whatever he found he pushed himself up into a sitting position and flicked out a hand. Then blinked down at his hands. Repeated the gesture. He frowned, brow furrowing, then blew out a stream of misty white air.

Tiny ice crystals fell into the sand, melting on contact.

He cocked his head to the side as if listening to something then smiled.

“What a naughty little girl that one is.” He nodded, eyes unfocused. “Yes. We’ll have to take back what she’s stolen.”

He rolled over and peered down over the side of the dune. The snake looked back, tail waving languidly, then unfurled and slithered its way back up, long thick body gliding over the sand and leaving no trail in its wake.

He closed his eyes, humming. “Foolish little witch.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The farm! But different. *gestures to tags pointedly* Clint has mouthy teenage daughters. *more gesturing at tags* Thor's head isn't in the game! 
> 
> Real talk time: Adult!Loki is a bag of dicks. Loki's actions are Loki's and, while clearly a product of his upbringing, no one forced him to be a dick. Sympathy for the Devil (Err, God. Not God) because raw deal and clearly a total Fruit Loop during the Avengers movie but no excuses. I don't want anyone thinking he's anything other than a great big bag of dicks. 
> 
> Also: Thor's lack of pronouns when discussing the period in which Loki's punishment takes place is deliberate. Kinda funks up the 'flow' though.


	4. Nowhere To Grow Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's got a farm. And daughters. And a husband. Coulson, Clint, and Natasha communicate on a non-verbal level. Steve and Tony...yell at each other. On a verbal level.

 

Clint swore under his breath when they walked out of the quintjet to find Kate and Daisy already waiting, standing on the front porch. He was torn between being happy to see them, he’d been gone for two weeks now running missions with the team in search of the scepter, and the nagging worry that came with bringing work to the place that was supposed to be free from that.

He wasn’t surprised to see them outside, the opposite actually. They’d been bothering him to meet the team since the New York Incident (as people now referred to it. Battle, apparently, was deemed to be too harsh and emotionally jarring.) but it wasn’t exactly on his to do list. Keeping his girls safe was priority one always and having him for a father was dangerous enough without adding on the entire psych ward that was the Avengers.

Nonetheless he couldn’t think of anywhere more off the grid than the farm. The number of people other than himself who knew about it than himself could be counted on one hand.

“Uh.” Tony said, making a gesture towards the girls. “Are those...agents?”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “Agents?”

Clint couldn’t help but think his girls would make...interesting agents. Aside from being entirely too young, Kate had more attitude than anyone he knew aside from himself and probably wouldn’t play too nice in an agency like SHIELD and Daisy...well. Daisy had a whole freedom fighting/revolutionary/Fuck the man thing going on.

He couldn’t imagine where she’d picked it up from.

Natasha maybe.

“Junior agents? Short really junior agents.” Tony insisted while cutting his eyes over to look at Clint. “Right? Or. No?”

“Aunt Nat!” Daisy shouted, bouncing over. Clint started to step forward to tell the girl...something. But Natasha shouldered past him, lips curving upwards in a smile so genuine it made his heart hurt. Daisy lept and Natasha caught her easily, laughing as she did.

Kate walked over at a more subdued face but was enveloped into the hug anyway

“Aunt Nat.” Tony echoed, looking stricken. “She’s smiling. Black Widow is smiling. And hugging. And being hugged. You all see this?”

"Yes Tony." Bruce was watching Natasha and the girl's with a strange almost pained expression on his face. 

Natasha didn’t appear to hear them, too busy tugging at the thick braid going down Kate’s back while Daisy squirmed away from them. “Purple streaks Katie? Why not red?”

“I can’t deal with this.” Tony whispered. “Domestic Widow.”

Clint spared him an amused look and made a mental note to drag out the photo albums to really blow Tony’s mind but then had his arms full of enthusiastic teenager.

“We saw what happened on the news.” Daisy said, looking up at him. “You’re alright? All in one piece? Because you are so very in trouble.”

Of course he was. “Where’s-”

“Inside talking to Aunt May.” Kate flicked her braid over her shoulder. Clint frowned severely. “Don’t make that face when you go in there.”

He nodded then put an arm around her shoulder. “Time to face the music then.”

“Are we about to meet Mrs. Legolas? I can’t wait to meet the woman willing to settle down with this guy.”

Daisy’s eyes went round. “Ohhhhh.”

Natasha put a finger to her lips, eyes bright with mirth. He didn’t roll his eyes but he did crack another small smile. In spite of everything it was easy to feel at ease back on his farm, surrounded by his girls. They’d taken a hit, a big one, but they were all still here. His home was here, and about to become crowded, and his family was here, waiting for him.

He knew they could figure out whatever needed to happen next.

Though. There was Loki. A younger Loki who Thor was willing to swear wasn’t a threat and Clint was trusting that for the time being. Not that he’d had a lot of choice; he could have refused to bring Loki here, dropped him somewhere along the way, but Thor would have went with him and they couldn’t afford to lose one of their heavy hitters.

Not with Bruce neck deep in that self-loathing thing he did so well and Tony playing mad scientist in his spare time (And Bruce too. Couldn’t forget that Bruce had helped.). Ranks were already split and everyone was rattled, forcing Thor to choose between them and what he saw as his chance to do right by his brother was the worst possible thing they could do.

Clint had his issues with Loki of course; the angry little freak had seen fit to dig into every corner of Clint’s brain, peeling back everything he was, and then leaving his slimey touch so deep that he never knew when it’d come cropping up, making problems, and it sucked. More than sucked, it haunted him day and night. He’d been afraid to come back to his daughters, had thought himself too dangerous and volatile to be trusted to take care of them after what they’d lost. After what he’d taken from them.

And that was the real problem with Loki. Not that he’d dug into Clint’s brain and treated it like his own personal Google, though that was a huge fucking problem as well, but what he’d almost taken from Daisy and Kate.

Priorities were priorities.

He pushed open the door and, after letting his daughters walk in, crossed the threshold. Shoes and backpacks littered the floor; they must have come right up from the city. He lead the group through the living room, watching the team look around in wonder.

There wasn’t much to see in Clint’s opinion but the others were amused by the strangest stuff so who was to say.

“Honey? I’m home.” He called out tentatively. Stark, the actual picture of amused by the strangest things, snapped to attention a gleeful expression on his face. It melted into shock then confusion then something Clint could only call ‘total system shut down’.

Phil had walked out of his office, the (mostly) converted sunroom that was just off of the kitchen, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. He was wearing one of his (many many) suits, though the jacket was somewhere else and he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Clint made a beeline for his husband, setting aside the others for a moment, and leaned down to press a kiss onto the other’s mouth, steadfastly ignoring the gagging noises their girls were making.

Sometimes he wished they’d found more polite children. But then when you’re dealing with one girl who’s parents were Hydra and thus assholes and the other was rescued from the middle of a slaughter and labeled an object of unknown origin you were kind of asking for trouble and there was no shortage of trouble with those two.

Good trouble. The best kind, really. Other than all the attitude and sarcasm. That was probably Natasha's fault too.

Clint smiled broadly at his team, draping an arm around Phil’s shoulders. “So. Yeah. Mrs. Legolas.”

“Because I've never heard that before.” Phil didn't smile but the skin around his eye crinkled in that way that told Clint he was amused. “You didn’t tell them?

“And miss this?” Clint asked, gesturing to the others. “Never.”

Phil looked unimpressed, but that was his default state when it came to the Avengers (aside from Steve, of course) so Clint didn’t think anything of it. He inclined his head slightly towards Thor and Loki, watched Phil follow his gaze and then nod slightly.

He’d sent a message ahead to his husband’s burner phone (which was probably a pile of scrap somewhere now) to let them know he was bringing the others plus one de-aged, amnesic, alien who may or may not have stabbed Phil in the heart three years ago (depending on time travel vs Magic!) and that it was probably a good idea to not shoot him or mention said stabbing.

Phil's reply had been a very to the point 'Bring home coffee'. Which wasn't a 'HaHa, Fuck you, I'm taking the kids and leaving.', so Clint had figured it was as good as an 'okay'. 

At the moment Loki was standing with one of Thor’s arms around his shoulders, holding him so he was practically plastered to his side. He still hadn’t spoken but Clint figured that having your mouth sewn shut could take a toll on anyone.That kid was basically a dog who’d been kicked into submission as far as Clint could tell; he’d cut that thread away and have seen every flinch, felt the trembling, and seen tears of shame and frustration brimming in Loki’s eyes. Someone had done a number on the kid and no matter how Clint looked at it (Past Loki, Loki constructed from some of Thor’s awful memories, Loki reliving some awful childhood

“Agent?” Tony recovered first and took a step forward. Then stopped and narrowed his eyes. “Fury is a fucking liar. What the fuck is this? I’ve been all over SHIELD’s files, all of them, and there’s nothing about you after what happened. Nothing. He let us think you were dead all this time. There was a funeral. Pepper cried! It’s been three years. SHIELD isn’t even a thing anymore and you, the three of you, were still keeping this secret.  And I threw a party and you didn't come and I know you knew about it. That's just rude.”

Coulson shot him a look out of the corner of his eyes (This would have been much easier if you had explained ahead of time.) Natasha looked off to the side, lips pursing she shrugged minutely. (Clint’s an idiot, why are you surprised?) Coulson blinked once, slowly. (You could have said something.) Natasha blinked back. (And miss this?)

Clint grinned.

Natasha pushed off of the wall she’d been leaning against. “Come on boys. I’ll show you where the showers are then we can talk.”

There were some protests but Natasha herded everyone out of the room and up the stairs in short order. Kate flopped onto the couch, legs dangling over the side and Daisy sat next to her, practically bouncing.

"This is awesome. Do you think Mr. Stark will sigh my poster? Or oh oh I'm working on this Ironman cosplay-"

"Ironman?" Clint asked, lips quirking up into a smile. 

Daisy made a 'duh' face. "I can't dress up as my dad. That's weird."

"Weird." Clint echoed. She nodded. 

"Yeah. Besides Katie is already dressing up as-" Kate slapped a hand over the younger girl's mouth, smiling nervously. 

"Did you get coffee?" 

Even if he didn't make his living watching people (and shooting them) he could have seen that obvious deflection. Still, one issue at a time. "You really wanted coffee? I thought that was code for something like 'don't worry, I've got my cosmic gun ready' or 'I've got a airstrike on speed dial.'" 

Phil's expression plainly said he thought Clint was genuinely an idiot. "You know I don't have air strike access anymore. Tell me about what happened." 

Clint sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck and shot one last glance at the girls before following Phil into his office. He pushed the door shut, eyes drifting around at the stacks of papers, maps, and were those the blueprints for one of the helicarriers? He rubbed a hand over his head. "What's all this?" 

"Nothing yet." Phil sat down at his desk and leaned back in his chair. "Fury wants me to take over as interim Director of SHIELD until this latest crisis is over." 

"Aww, Phil, no." He wanted to remind Phil that he'd walked away from SHIELD, that they'd all walked away. That Fury had brought him back without telling anyone, let people alter his memories of his life before, plucked the girls right out of his head to keep him compliant and in custody and it was only SHIELD collapsing that had 'fixed' things, in so far as a huge gap of memories and occasionally crazy wall painting was fixed. and that even if they'd forgiven they hadn't forgotten. 

Wanted to, but he'd never really been much for pointless conversations and it seemed pretty clear that a choice had already been made here. Not that he was one to criticize. What was he doing, running around with these gods, these larger than life people, anyway? He should have stopped after New York, after burying Phil or at the very after he found out Phil was alive, should have just stuck to the farm with him and the girls. 

"Ultron, he's got these allies. Some kids, really. They carry a big damn stick and the whole team...Nat. Nat took a serious hit. I think we're gonna have to teach them some manners." 

Phil nodded solemnly then picked up a paper from in front of him. "I could potentially get air strike access if that's the kind of lesson you have in mind. For Natasha."

Clint thought about the way he'd found Natasha, huddled in on herself, expression far away and terrified, body trembling. It was tempting. But. "I remember you dealing with two other kids who carried pretty big sticks. I seem to recall you-"

"Shooting one of them?" He supplied smoothly but the skin around his eyes was crinkling again.

"Convincing them that there were other options. That they could be good people."

"I'll shelve the airstrike. For now." Clint wasn't sure but he thought he detected a note of disappointment in Phil's voice. "Since you insist on doing the right thing." 

\----

“Tahiti?” Steve was no less confused than he had been 45 minutes ago. He was showered and had changed and it felt good to be out of the uniform for the time being. There was still things to do, they had a mess to clean up.

“It’s a magical place.”  Tony grumbled, swinging his ax.

The family had taken seats on stools around the kitchen island and left the dining room table to the rest of the team before explaining what had happened to Age-Director Coulson. The wound he’d sustained had been fatal and he had died for about six minutes but some very classified SHIELD tech was used to repair his heart and bring him back. Then he’d been sent to Tahiti to recover, after which he’d returned to his family and begun working quietly within SHIELD to handle all the weird stuff going on in the world. People believing him to be dead was crucial to the work he’d been doing.

Steve wasn’t sure he bought it. It wasn’t completely off the wall but the body language was all wrong. Not in Coulson, Clint, or Natasha but in the girls. Even as they made jokes, saying ‘It’s a magical’ place in unison and giggling, they went tight around the eyes and at one point Daisy had reached out and grabbed Coulson’s hand, looking troubled.

There was more there, a lot more and Steve intended to find out what it was.

Later.

For now everyone was trying to get their heads on straight and he didn’t know how well it was working but...hopefully it would work out.

He could see Thor and Loki walking the perimeter of the farm and wondered what they were talking about, or more likely what Thor was saying to his all but catatonic brother, Nat was probably with Bruce and hopefully making use of the downtime they had, and he knew Clint was inside with his family which…

Well.

Steve wasn’t sure what to make of that so instead he swung his ax and split another log. He took a moment to look at Tony’s pile and almost smiled when he noticed how sparse it was in comparison to his own.

“What has you so happy?” Tony groused. Steve blinked, smile dropping away. “We’re on a farm in the middle of nowhere because Bruce may be a wanted man, everyone’s just had their worst nightmares shoved right in their faces and Thor’s is actually up and walking and talk...well, okay, that was in bad taste but serious shit. Loki, Cap, LOKI. The guy who mind jacked Barton and killed Director Agent is here, at their little gay lovenest, complete with cute adopted kids like they aren't spies and Widow knew about all of this but no one ever mentioned it because we aren’t actually friends or can’t be trusted or I don’t know.”

Steve sighed and placed another log. “I’m aware of the situation.” He didn’t see a way to explain that he’d been smiling at Tony because that just meant touching upon things that were better dealt with...perhaps never.

He wasn’t prepared for the mockery that came with daring to discuss a serious matter with Tony Stark. Also there was the matter of Pepper and

Steve brought the ax down again, taking out the log and slicing through half the stump along with it. Tony opened his mouth then closed it and took a step back before opening it again.

“Tell me Capsicle, what did you see?”

"What's it matter?" He frowned.

Tony answered automatically and easily. "I don't trust a man without a darkside." 

Steve considered not answering but, really, it wasn’t worth not talking about. “I saw Peggy. She was telling me the war was over and I could finally come home but I know there’s no home or over for people like me, just another battlefield somewhere else.”

And he accepted that. He’d accepted it the minute he’d woken up in the future, as it were, and realized that he’d lost everything he’d once had. There was no home, no friends or family. Nothing to go back to when the fight was over.

Tony stared at him. “That might be the saddest thing I’ve heard all hour.”

And there was the mockery.

"What'd you see that made you act so stupid?"

Tony's expression shifted, became darker. "Banner and I were trying to create something-"

"That would affect the team." 

"That would end the team!" Tony shouted, taking a step towards him.

Steve's eyes widened and he felt as if an icy hand was wrapped around his heart. "Is that what you thought you were doing?" 

"Isn't that the mission? The ideal? To stop the fights before they happen, to be able to go ho-" And then Tony stopped, mouth shutting with an audible snap. 

Steve shook his head and yanked the ax free of the stump. How had he not seen this in Tony before? Had it been there, just well hidden? Or had the Maximoff girl brought it out? Could he make him understand that it wasn't about Steve not having a home to go back to, which was what the engineer had to be thinking now, but about what it meant to stop conflict before it happened. Make him see it was no different than- _  
_

_'HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom.'_  * 

"Anytime someone tries to stop a fight before it happens, no matter how good the intentions, innocent people die. Every time. " 

Tony was quiet for a long moment, looking incredibly tired, then let out a huff of air. He turned on his heel and stalked off, heading in the direction of what Steve assumed was the barn. "Don't touch my pile." 

Steve looked at Tony's pile again then shook his head and reached for another log to split.

What the hell had that girl shown Tony anyway?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As said by Zola in CA:TWS
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: The author will stop playing with the characters and return to the matter of Loki. Honest.


End file.
